Neal's Sickness
by PoeticJustice84
Summary: Neal comes down with a nasty bug and Peter and El have to nurse him back to health in this installment.
1. Chapter 1

**Chap. 1**

Elizabeth placed her hand on the forehead in question. It was warm for sure. Neal had a fever. Calling for Peter to being the electronic thermometer, she tucked the blankets tighter around him and smoothed his hair back off of his forehead.

"Did you feel sick last night?"

"No. When I woke up this morning, my head was stuffy and my neck was achy, but I didn't feel bad last night."

Peter sat on the side of the bed with the tympanic thermometer and handed it to his wife, his hand automatically going to the top of Neal's head. He massaged his son's scalp as El used the ear thermometer to get a reading on his temperature.

Neal leaned into the massage and sighed. He really felt awful. Now his throat was starting to get raw. God, he hoped he wasn't catching the flu Jones had been down with for almost a week. He just wanted to sleep.

"Well, 103.4 isn't great, but it isn't terrible either. I'll get something to help with the fever and the headache. If the fever isn't any lower in a few hours, I'm calling the doctor."

Neal watched her leave and turned his head toward his dad. The comforting hand was still on head.

"I hate being sick. I hardly ever do get sick, but when I do it's usually bad, like life is getting revenge because I don't get sick enough."

"I would hazard a guess that you are coming down with the flu Jones had last week. If that's the case, we should get you in to see the doctor as soon as we can. This will only get worse. We can't treat the flu, but we can treat the symptoms, maybe make the duration shorter and lessen the impact."

"Ungh, Peter don't say that word!"

"What word?"

"Doctor. It's a bad word."

Peter almost laughed at how childlike Neal sounded. It was rather endearing to see the boy like that.

"When your mom gets back I'll go make some tea and see what kind of soup we have. I know, I know, you're not hungry, but you still need to keep your strength up so your immune system can fight this."

Elizabeth grabbed the ibuprofen and a bottle of water. Neal would need all the fluids he could get. Now though, she needed to get his fever down.

"Ok, the ibuprofen should help with the fever. I'll recheck it in an hour or so, after the pills have had time to start working."

Neal popped the coated tablets into his mouth and swallowed, thankful that Peter and El both preferred the coated variety. The coating made the small pills easier to swallow with his sore throat.

"Now that you're here I'm going to go make some tea and see what soups we have."

"I made some vegetable soup yesterday and there is some chicken noodle in the freezer. I think there is butternut squash soup in there as well. Then we have Italian Wedding soup in the pantry. So, what's it to be?"

"What's in the chicken noodle?"

"Chicken, noodles, carrots, onions, a little garlic, chicken stock, basil, a little sea salt, some pepper, and some finely chopped spinach."

"Sounds good to me."

Peter nodded and made his way down the stairs to get the tea and the soup. He would need to call Hughes and have Diana bring him the files from the Hensen case. He could work from home using his laptop and cell phone

After he took the tablets, Neal snuggled down into the covers, seeking out the warmth they possessed. The pillow somehow molded to his head. It felt wonderful. He would let it support his head for a while; he was too tired to do so.

"Rest, baby. I'll be here."

Elizabeth heard her husband coming up the stairs just as Neal started to stir again. Once she caught sight of those fever bright eyes, she knew the tablets were still making their way into his system.

"Peter is here with your soup."

As El helped him sit up, Peter smoothed out the blankets and positioned the tray on the bed in front of his flu weakened son. Watching Neal sip the mint tea, Peter marveled at how delicate the kid could look. Next Neal took some saltine crackers and crushed them into the steaming soup.

"Do I detect a hint of orange in this?"

El smiled, even sick Neal still had one of the most sensitive pallets she had ever encountered.

"I forgot about the orange zest I used. How does it work with the soup?"

"It's really good. It makes the other flavors kind of pop I guess."

Neal was able to finish the small bowl of soup and the tea before his eyes started to droop again. Yawning his pleasure as Peter slid into the bed beside him, Satchmo, and Angelo, Neal cuddled into the blankets and his dad and let sleep take over. He was warmer with his dad there. If he had to be sick, at least he had his parents there to care for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chap. 2**

When he woke the room was quiet. Turning his head he saw his dad sitting on the bed, his eyes glued to a file. The steaming coffee sitting on the bedside table was fresh and had he been able to smell, he would bet one of his favorite Monet's that the scent that now filled the room was heavenly. Oh, how he hated being sick.

"How long have you been awake?"

Neal shifted on the bed and pushed himself into a sitting position before answering.

"Not long. What are you working on?"

"The Hensen case. Jones brought the file over earlier. He inquired about you as well. Apparently this flu really kicked his ass and he wanted you to get in to see the doctor as soon as you can."

"I thought we agreed not to say that word again."

"We'll see what your temperature says first."

Neal sighed Peter picked up the thermometer. He already knew that his fever was still elevated. His eyes told him so. They drooped and hurt when he had a high fever and now was no different.

"Well, it's still above 103. I'm going to call the doctor."

"Great! This will be so much fun!"

El heard her husband on the phone with the doctor as she finished the laundry. Placing the fluffy towels in the bathroom cupboard, she made her way to Neal's bedroom to check on him.

"So the fever is still high?"

"I guess. Dad's calling the doctor now."

Elizabeth drew the covers back up over her son to stop the shivering and placed her hand on his forehead.

"You're hot."

"Well, I've always known that."

"I meant your fever is still spiking, smartass."

"That's just wonderful."

Neal picked up the file Peter had left on the bed and attempted to read through it but the words blurred into each other. Tossing the file aside, he decided to take a bathroom break.

Peter thanked the doctor and disconnected the call. Glancing at his watch, he realized that they only had an hour until the appointment. He was dressed, but Neal wasn't. He was still in his pajamas.

"Neal your appointment is at noon. We need to get going pretty soon."

"Fine."

Neal pulled on a pair of black workout pants and a thick Midnight Blue FBI hoody that he filched from Peter months ago. It was warm and smelled of coffee and pine. It was comforting.

Peter didn't mention the state of Neal's appearance, although he was surprised to notice that the kid looked neat and tidy even in workout attire. Cranking the heat up in the car, Neal leaned into the seat and covered himself with his coat. He might not like the idea of seeing the doctor, but he had to admit, getting some relief from his misery would be awesome.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

Neal dozed as Peter drove. The motion of the car did little for his queasy stomach. When the monstrosity that Peter Burke drove finally came to a stop, Neal crawled out of the passenger seat and stretched. God, his whole body ached!

Dr. Katz eyed the patient carefully. The kid looked terrible. His fever was hovering around 103 and his entire body shivered. He was pale and his eyes looked weak. The test had finally come back. It seemed that Neal Caffrey had a bad case of the flu. Treating the symptoms was the only option.

"Well, you were right, Neal. You have the flu. I was thinking of possible ways to treat it. Have you ever taken Tamiflu?"

"No. I try to avoid traditional medications if I can. I usually go for the homeopathic solution. I think I can make an exception this time though."

"O.K. I'm going to write a prescription for the Tamiflu and then something for the cough you seem to be developing. Your lungs sound alright, but I don't want something to develop because of the flu. Other than that, stay hydrated, and rest. Your homeopathic methods may give you some relief, so by all means if they're healthy try them."

"Thanks."

After stopping at the pharmacy, they stopped at the market to grab something for dinner. Finally headed home, Neal sighed and sipped the hot orange tea Peter had gotten him. It did wonders for his tender aching throat.

"I'm sorry I cause so much trouble."

"What? Neal you don't cause trouble. Well you do but this isn't trouble and it certainly isn't your fault. You caught the flu, you can't help that."

"But you and Mom are having to completely reschedule everything because of me."

"Luckily I can work from home and you mom can do most of her stuff at home. What she can't do at home, she can delegate most of it. This is not a problem, bud. Besides, I could use the break, just don't tell Diana."

Neal let that sink into his fuzzy head. Maybe he wasn't causing problems. Instead of worrying about that, he let himself drift until they got home. Peter made lunch while Neal lounged on the couch with El, watching movies discussing how the books were much better than the movies. Having the flu wasn't so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chap. 3**

Elizabeth Burke rolled over and strained her ears, trying to hear what had woken her from a sound sleep. When no other sound came forth, she placed her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, intent on going back to sleep. Then she heard it again, the soft, low moaning that could only be a nightmare. Then came the blood curdling scream that pierced her ears and broke her heart at the same time. That scream meant that something was wrong on so many levels.

Peter Burke was woken from a sound sleep by the most terrifying screech he had ever heard. He was out of bed before his wife even had time to throw her covers back. That cry sounded like a wounded, frightened animal, not a human being. Yet that awful shriek was coming from his son.

"No! No, please! I'm sorry!"

Neal jolted awake, warm sweat making his entire body sticky. The tears streaming down his face dripped onto the bed, disappearing into the sheets. Spotting his dad sitting on the side of the bed, Neal threw himself into the arms of the first person to ever make him feel truly safe.

El rubbed his back as he continued to cry. The shivering was now subsiding and the sobs were mere sniffles now.

Peter ran his fingers through the scared kid's hair, trying to offer some sort of comfort in any way he could. He slowed his breathing and tried to regulate his pulse, hoping Neal would follow suit. Wrapping his arms tighter around his boy, Peter kissed the head that had somehow buried itself in his chest.

Neal finally lifted his head to see two very concerned people sitting beside him. He knew he would have to tell them about the nightmares, but he didn't want to. He just wanted to wrap up in his blankets and sleep for days.

El felt the heat radiating off of the body she was hugging. Neal's fever had spiked again. That was probably what brought on the nightmare. Rising quickly, she headed for the bathroom to find a fever reducer.

"Neal, buddy what happened? I'm guessing you had a nightmare."

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!"

El chose that moment to walk back into the room with the meds. To Neal, she was al life saver. To Peter she was an interruption.

"Here, sweetie lets get that fever down."

Twenty minutes later Neal was asleep, curled into his bed clothes with Peter and Elizabeth on either side of him keeping the bad dreams away.

Peter thought about Neal's nightmare long into the night. He and Neal were going to talk about it whether the kid wanted to or not. This was not something he wanted for his son. Neal's sleep should be peaceful, not broken by nightmares. Peter realized that it might be time to talk to Neal about seeing that therapist.


	4. Chapter 4

**White Collar and its characters do not belong to me. I would be such a happy girl if I did! Chap. 4**

The fever finally broke just after two Friday morning. Neal woke sweaty, sticky, and miserable. Quickly stripping the bed of the sheets and pillow cases, he threw them in the washer and set about remaking the bed. Before he even had the pillow cases on the pillows El was there helping him with the bed.

"I went to get a drink and heard the washing machine going. I'm guessing your fever broke."

"Yeah. The sheets were a mess. I thought since I was up I might as well toss them in the wash. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. But since we're both up how about I make us some tea? That always helps me relax when I can't sleep."

"Sure. I was thinking about getting a snack anyway. Now that the fever has finally broken I'm kind of hungry."

As El made the Chamomile tea Neal set about finding snacks. His body wanted salt, so the pickles, olives, and saltines came out. He also shaved a few thin slices of parmesan cheese onto each plate beside the crackers before sitting at the breakfast bar with them.

"So, did the soaked sheets really wake you or was it another nightmare?"

"Just the sheets this time. I am sorry about all the trouble I've caused lately. That was never my intention."

"You were sick, sweetie. You had a very high fever. When you combine that with whatever had you so scared the other night those dreams are bound to happen."

Elizabeth watched as Neal popped an olive into his mouth to avoid further conversation about the topic. Obviously whatever he had been dreaming about caused a hurt so deep, it hurt to even think about it. Maybe Peter was right. Maybe it was time to approach Neal about seeing someone. The nightmares were not going to just go away.

"Neal, I want to talk to you about something and I want you to hear me out before you say anything."

"OK. I think I can do that."

"For a while now Dad and I have wanted to talk to you about this. I think it would be beneficial to you to at least give it a chance. We think you should see someone. A therapist. You've been through so much in such a short time, not to mention the things we don't know about. Having someone to help you work through all of that might be helpful."

A therapist? Really? They thought he needed therapy? He didn't need therapy! He just needed to be left alone. Damnit! Why did they have to care? No one ever cared! They weren't supposed to care. He didn't deserve to be cared for.

"Oh, baby yes you do! Peter and I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. We just want you to realize that."

He hadn't meant to speak aloud. Great! Now they knew he was crazy!

"I don't need a therapist! I'm fine! I have been fine for years."

"You've buried yourself so far behind the masks you have no idea who really are. And no, you're not fine! How could you be fine after everything you've experienced?"

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Never tell!"

"You can tell now. He can't hurt you anymore."

"But it hurts!"

The quiet sobbing gave away just how much it must hurt. Elizabeth did the only thing she could. She wrapped her son safely in her arms and held him until the storm passed. Monday morning she and Peter were going to find a therapist that specialized in this kind of trauma. She couldn't watch her son suffer anymore. She could not watch him fight demons she could not see alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Before I forget, White Collar and its characters do not belong to me. I would be such a happy girl if they did! **

**Chap. 5**

Neal sat at the desk staring at the office that currently housed his dad and one Reese Hughes. He was dreading the next two hours. In just a few moments, Peter was going to walk out of that damn glass office and shuttle him off to that freaking therapy session. Such fun he was going to have! Fuck! He could always charm his way through the session. That had worked on too many people to count in the past, it could certainly work now. Peter would eventually catch on to his little plan, though. And he would not be a happy camper. He would probably take his unhappiness out of Neal's backside, too

"Ready to go?"

"No. I think I'll stay and finish this paperwork.

"Not going to happen kid. Get a move on."

Neal grabbed his coat and made his way to the car. His life officially sucked! Stupid therapy! He thought about calling Elizabeth and begging her to talk her hard headed husband out of this hair brained plan, and then he remembered that his mom had also thought this was a good idea.

Neal watched as Peter folded himself into the car and started the engine. The older man looked determined. Just great!

"You know, I could have gone to the therapist by myself. I am capable of reading an address."

"You're capable of a great many things. Knowing what's best for yourself is not one of them. I however, only have your interests in mind."

Neal huffed his displeasure and turned to face the window. No one ever said he had to like this senseless idea.

Peter glanced as his son as they pulled into the office. Neal didn't move and inch.

"We're here."

"I know."

"Come on, let's go."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm kind of scared."

Of course Neal was scared, no one had ever told him it was ok to need help. No one had ever told him it was ok to be scared, either. Walking over to the passenger door, Peter knelt beside his kid and looked into those bright blue orbs never missed a thing. He wanted Neal's full attention for this.

"I'm right here. I'm not leaving. If I see that you can't handle this, then we'll leave. I think this could help you, though. Having someone who can be objective when you talk to them is a good thing. Mom and I are too close to be objective. All we want to do is protect you. Even from the things we can't see."

"You won't leave?"

"Not for a second."

"Then I guess I can give this a try."

"Then let's get this show on the road. And Neal, do not try to con your way of these sessions!"

"Would I do that? Don't answer that."

Two hours later, Peter followed his son into the house and flopped down onto the couch. The therapy session had been draining for both of them. Getting Neal to reveal anything was like pulling teeth. The kid kept himself so hidden; it was hard to see where the real person began underneath the masks. At least he had learned one thing. Neal Caffrey was wound tighter than a drum, even if he didn't show it.

"Neal, are you alright?"

Neal sat on the floor with his two furry friends contemplating his answer. Was he alright? No. Not really. Had he ever really been alright? Probably not. Could he ever be alright? Maybe. Not wanting to lie to Peter he shook his head no and buried his face in Satchmo's fur.

Seeing the shaking shoulders, Peter pulled his boy to his chest and let him cry. He suspected there would be more of this as the therapy continued. Neal's life had been anything but pleasant, all that pain and fear had to go somewhere.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, bud."

"I hate this! I hate how you and Mom have to walk on egg shells because of me!"

"This will get better, I promise! You just have to trust me, buddy."

"I always trust you."

Peter tucked the dark head under his chin and prayed he could make good on his promise. Neal didn't need anymore broken promises. He needed love and affection. Those Peter and El could give in spades.

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing! **

**The End! More to come in the next story.**


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